After Dark
by jacklavigne
Summary: Set almost two years after Until Dawn, Piper finds herself battling the world alone, searching for the one person that will make her whole again.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Howdy guys, I know I said that this wouldn't be up for a while, but here it is anyway, the sequel to Until Dawn. I've got quite a few stories that will be uploaded over the next few weeks, hopefully including the next chapter to Better Than Paris, which I've been having some trouble with. All the stories that are uploaded, including this one, will be long term fics, which means that they won't be uploaded regularly, because I like having each chapter perfectly thought out before I upload them, and that takes me a while. But hopefully, it'll help us pass the time until the third season comes out._

_There are no real spoilers for season two here, as Until Dawn started at the end of season one, but there might be a few references to scenes from the past. Piper/Alex's relationship, etc, etc. And as always, none of these characters belong to me, they belong to the wonderful Piper Kerman and Jenji Kohan. _

_Rated M for sexual scenes, extreme violence (if you read Until Dawn, you know what I'm talking about) and for some very bad language. This story will be a bit darker than Until Dawn, if that's possible, though there will still be some humour thrown in. It's also set around two years after the end of Until Dawn. _

_Enjoy!_

**After Dark**

**Prologue**

One hundred and forty six days, that is how long it's been since I've seen _her._ Once upon a time, I would have given anything, everything, just to forget her; to forget what she looks like, what she smells like, how her body felt beneath my fingers. But now, now that I am actually started to forget the lines of her face, the color of her eyes, the thought of forgetting her fucking terrifies me. For so long, she has been the one thing that has kept me going in this fucked up world, the one thing that forced me to open my eyes every day, to fight, to live. For half of my life, she has been the one constant, always there, whether it was in person or in the back of my mind, she was always there and I never forgot.

I always thought that there was some fucked up deity that kept bringing us together, since it seemed so impossible that I ever even met her in the first place, and kept on meeting her. It started as a chance meeting one night in a bar, which turned into another chance meeting weeks later at a party and then another that led me to her home where we fucked for the first time, and I experienced the awkward and crazy situation of meeting her girlfriend up close. After that, the chance meetings weren't so by chance; I began to pursue her as she had pursed me and it was the start of something beautiful which turned into something so ugly and I thought it was the end. But I found her again, almost ten years later in prison, and I thought there was no way it could just be a coincidence; something or someone was trying to give me a sign that we were supposed to be together.

But now I'm starting to think that maybe the deity is just some cruel bitch that likes to fuck with me, by bringing her back into my life only to tear her from my grasp again. Because Alex is gone and the chances of finding her again are slim and I feel the last bit of my hope beginning to fade with each passing day.

I once promised her that I would fight a thousand zombies with my bare hands to be with her, and I will not break that promise as she never broke hers. I will find her, and that deity so hell bent on keeping us apart can go straight to Hell, because I've never put much faith in the gods anyway, and I'm not about to start now. My destination is Litchfield Prison and my search is for Alex, who I can only hope is out there somewhere, searching for me too.

/

**Chapter One**

The streets are quiet, eerily so, immediately raising the fine hairs on the back of my neck as I listen intently from my place in the shadows. It's so quiet that I can hear the steady thump of my heart beating in my chest, as I sit upon the floor with my gun held tightly in my shaky hands. My eyes are completely focused on the too empty road, watching and waiting for the slightest hint of movement, and I'm grateful for my patience when I see the shadows begin to shift and form into figures.

I am currently in a city just outside of New York, one that I passed through what seemed like a lifetime ago, with a rag tag group of women. My destination is the one place that I never thought I'd willingly go to again, but I don't have any other choice. It's my only chance to ever see _her _again and I am completely willing to risk my life on the dangerous journey to get there. My memories of the last few months are hazy at best, though I am entirely aware of where I am and how I got here. My memories are hazy, not because of some blow to the skull or a bout of amnesia, but because I've been alone for so long that my days have begun to blur together. It is the same routine, day in and day out, wake up just before nightfall, eat, creep, attack, hide, and rest as the sun comes up. I have only one goal, and that it to hopefully find _her_; no stone has been left unturned and no city has been left unsearched as I look in every corner for a glimpse of her face.

The scrape of a boot on concrete alerts me to the fact that I'm not alone and I curse violently in the safety of my own mind. As silently as possible, I bolt from my hiding place, but it is no use; they are following me and they will not stop. They feel no fear, have no need for sleep or sustenance to keep going, they just want to eat and I'm the only meal in a fifty mile radius.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, _I groan as I skid around a corner and inadvertently crash into a garbage can, full of empty bottles and cans, which had to make the loudest noise in the history of the earth as they spilled across the pavement, alerting my followers to my location. I didn't dare to look behind me, and instead just kept putting one foot in front of the other, ignoring my exhaustion after having been up for the past three days straight in my desperation to reach my final destination. I was so fucking _close, _and in an act of complete stupidity, had decided to travel through a town while it was still dark and had walked straight into a pit of starving zombies.

I should have kept to the woods; it was fucking creepy as shit in there, but the chance of walking into a stray zombie was minimal, but I was unwilling to take the long way around. I had been alone for so long, and while I had more than a six by six square of space to pace in, I felt as if I'd been locked up in SHU for half a year. It had been so long since I had seen another living being, even longer since I'd had a conversation with one, touched one, I felt as if I was losing my mind. Ever since America and all the surrounding countries had been put through quarantine, the lack of human life had become devastatingly obvious. The US Government, or what was left of it, were taking absolutely no chances, which meant that they'd kill innocent people if there was even the slightest chance that they'd been infected.

I was almost surprised that they hadn't just nuked the entire country already.

As I sprinted out of the city and onto the main road that would lead me to Litchfield, without any of the supplies I'd been hoping for, I once again cursed the US Government, for the thousandth time. Taking out every one of those bastards was on my list of things to do, right after I found Alex. They had taken me from her and I planned to pay them back for my misery tenfold.

_"I'm going to throw up."_

_"You better not," a husky voice responded, laced with amusement. "I've already seen enough vomit today, thank you very much. Can't you hear Lorna down the hall? She sounds like a dying cat, it's disgusting in there."_

_"You're supposed to love me," I pouted, earning a husky chuckle in response. "You're my girlfriend, you're supposed to support me in the hard times, you know? Hold my hand when I'm sad, reassure me when I'm insecure and comfort me when I'm about to throw my fucking guts up, you asshole."_

_"Piper, I killed a fucking zombie with my bare hands for you, not three days ago; that's fucking love right there," Alex said as she sat down on the edge of the bed, gently caressing my back as I sat with my elbows on my knees, white knuckling a, so far empty, bucket. "Plus, since when have you had a problem with boats? I've never known for you to get sea sick before."_

_"I've never been on a boat in the middle of a fucking storm," I grumbled in response, groaning when the boat suddenly pitched forward, almost throwing me from my seat. Thankfully, Alex managed to grab me just before I pitched into the wall of our secluded little cabin, her thumbs caressing my arms as she pulled me back against her chest. "See? This is fucking ridiculous."_

_"I don't think that was the storm, babe," Alex murmured softly in my ear before going silent, her thumbs stilling in their movement. I turned my head to look at her serious face, frowning as I watched her features slowly harden._

_"Alex? What's wrong?" I whispered as my girlfriend's grip on me tightened, but my question was answered before Alex even opened her mouth. A door slammed open somewhere nearby, and suddenly, I could hear people yelling and screaming, and my entire body jolted as I heard the sound of gunfire. "What the-"_

_"Piper, grab your shit." Alex was suddenly off the bed, scrambling around on the floor as she packed our meagre belongings into our bags. I watched her with wide, shocked eyes, unable to move until Alex's glanced at me over her shoulder, her eyes burning with worry. "Come on!"_

_I immediately stood from the bed, my hand reaching for one of the double barrel shot guns wedged in between our cot and a crate that had been nailed to the floor. My fingers were barely wrapped around the handle when the door slammed open, and Janae's worried face was filling my vision. "We need to go."_

_"What the fuck is going on?" Alex threw our bags over her shoulders as we followed Watson into the dimly lit corridor as the ship swayed beneath our feet. I caught sight of Nicky, Red and Lorna leaving their room just down the hall, looking equally as worried as Alex sounded and Janae looked. _

_"We've been fuckin' boarded," Janae spoke hurriedly as she ushered us down the corridor, throwing looks back over her shoulder every few seconds. "I was up on deck with the crew, helping out 'cause of the storm and these fucking assholes came up alongside us. Fucking quarantine, man, we gotta get the fuck out of here."_

_"Fuck," I breathed, feeling panic begin to seize me as I practically started running down the hallway with my friends behind me. We had just left Spain after the government had shown up to put its citizens through their fucked up version of quarantine and I had no intention of sticking around just to be killed if I had the smallest scratch on my person. _

_"Where are we going?" Morello's voice was tinged heavily with the fear that I could feel coursing through my own veins and I listened intently for Watson's reply._

_"There are some boats on the other side of the ships where we're heading," Janae responded hurriedly. "The crew is holdin' em off up there, they might even win, but I ain't takin' any chances."_

_I had never been so thankful for a group of old navy marines in my life as we climbed up the stairs that would lead us onto the deck. A cold blast of wind slammed into my face like a block of ice, but I pushed forwards as I stumbled across the swaying deck, ignoring the sounds of fighting from the other end of the ship. It wasn't a large ship, and the lifeboats were small, old husks of wood, but it would be enough to get us as far away from here as possible. They were strapped to the deck and attached at each end by thick pieces of rope, and with Watson's help, we finally managed push one over the edge to land with a splash in the water, thankfully upright. _

_"Go," I hurried to Nicky, Red and Lorna, herding them to the rickety ladder that led off the ship as Watson began to cut the rope that attached the boats to the deck. I gestured for Watson to follow as I started on the other line, watching her out of the corner of my eye as she headed down the ladder. _

_"Hurry up, Pipes," Alex was waiting by the ladder, her eyes on my rapidly moving hands. I turned to snap back at her, and had only barely a moment to react when her eyes widened with horror. _

_"STOP!" _

_"Alex, go!" I turned as a group of men rushed towards us, rifles pointing in our direction. I knew that reaching for my weapons would only cause them to fire, so I continued sawing at the thick ropes in my hands. "ALEX, GO, NOW!" _

_"DON'T MOVE! WE WILL SHOOT YOU!" _

_I felt one of their hands on me, the moment I cut through the last of the rope and I immediately began to struggle. I heard more than saw the moment that Alex moved towards me, more willing to die than to leave without me, but the moment the man's hands wrapped around my arms, I was fucked and we both knew it._

_But Alex wasn't, and I wasn't about to let her die for me, not after I'd put so much effort into keeping her alive. _

_I knew it the moment she was within reach, felt the guard that was holding me stiffen, as the rest of the men readied their weapons to fire. I struck out with my legs and felt them hit something solid, and was rewarded with the sound of my girlfriend exhaling painfully as I knocked the breath of out her, and then the blissful sound of her body hitting the ocean. _

_Using a technique that I had learnt after being grabbed from behind by zombies a thousand times in the last two years, I slammed my head back into the face of the man holding me and heard the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking. His gripped loosened just enough for me to surge forwards, to get a glimpse over the side of the boat, before strong arms were wrapping around me and pulling me backwards._

_But it was enough. I had seen Nicky gripping Alex's drenched clothes as she pulled her into the boat, which was rocking dangerously on the angry ocean. I had seen Janae swiftly unlashing the oars and guiding the boat away from this godforsaken ship, hopefully to safety. I had caught her eye for a bare moment, had seen the regret that reflected my own; her regret at leaving me behind and my own regret at being unable to escape. _

_But I hadn't completely failed, even though I could feel my heart shattering in my chest at Alex's heart wrenching cry of my name. I felt relieved, even as I was pushed face first onto the deck of the ship, cruel hands digging into my arms and the barrel of a gun pressed to my temple._

_"PIPER! NO! PIPER!" It hurt more than the butt of the rifle that slammed into my head, but darkness took me quickly and then I knew nothing at all._


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: This chapter came out a lot quicker than I imagined it would, though part of it was already written before I had even uploaded the first chapter. I want to thank everyone thats commented on this story so far, and all the people that have followed it; I'm glad that you enjoyed the first chapter. Also a special thanks to the people that took the time to send me PMs to let me know how glad they were I started this sequel to Until Dawn. You guys are the best. _

_Anyway, enjoy the second chapter to this story!_

**After Dark**

**Chapter Two**

"Holy shit, fuck, oh my fucking God, _fuck, _crap, ow!"

My lip was bleeding profusely, punctured by sharp, neat white teeth as I forced the thin needle through my skin. Tears were leaking from the corners of my bright blue eyes, but for once, I didn't curse myself for being weak, because God knows, this task never got easier. My body was a testimony to how many times I'd done this before over the years, with thin white scars that crisscrossed over my once unblemished body, telling a story that I would much rather forget. Stitching yourself up, without anesthetic, was much worse than the actual wound that needed to be closed, I was thoroughly convinced. There was just something so wrong about pushing a needle through your own skin, which made it hurt even more than when someone else did it for you. You couldn't even try to focus on anything else, because you needed to concentrate on what you were doing, lest you stab yourself unnecessarily.

"Son of a bitch," I hissed, before breathing a sigh of relief as I finally pulled the needle from my skin, pulling the thread tight. I studied my handy work with a critical eye, giving a satisfied nod before leaning down awkwardly to break the thread with my teeth. The godforsaken needle went back into its case, along with the rest of my medical supplies, as I wrapped a bandage around the now closed gash on my forearm. In a hurried escape from a town last night, I had been forced to climb over a barbed wire fence, and had caught my arm as I was dropping down on the other side. It hadn't been too bad, but it had refused to stop bleeding, and the last thing I needed was the scent of fresh blood following me around as I was trying to escape from zombies.

I looked up from the hood of the abandoned car that I was sitting on, exhaling a heavy breath as I regarded the town I had stopped in. This particular town held memories for me, not as much as some of the ones I had passed through in the last few days, but enough to make my heart pound painfully in my chest. As I gazed at the shattered windows of the camping shop that was situated across from where I sat, I remembered the day when its door was slammed open, what felt like a lifetime ago, to reveal Janae Watson, looking as relieved as I felt to see the rag tag group of women standing outside.

This broken, burnt out husk of a town had been the starting point of an adventure I would have never expected to take. I had started planning a search for Alex in the privacy of my mind, in this small town, in the back room of that camping shop. And now, I'm hoping, praying, that my search for Alex will end, once I leave this town and enter the building on the other side of the forest that separated me from the prison.

A faltering step and a groan caused me to turn my head sharply, and I squinted against the bright sunlight to make out a figure dragging itself from an alleyway. Its feet dragged along the pavement, its movements sluggish and its skin almost transparent in the light as it tilted its head in my direction. Cold blue eyes stared back at me, bloodshot and hungry, but unable to fully see my form in the bright light. It must have smelt me, I thought to myself as I reached for my gun, taking my time to load it before pointing it calmly at the undead man stumbling towards me.

Without so much as a blink in reaction, I pulled the trigger and put a bullet straight through the man's forehead, watching him drop to the ground with a cool expression. I barely gave the body so much as a second glance as I replaced my hand gun back in its holder on my thigh, before slipping off the hood of the car. That little voice in the back of my head, my conscience, had disappeared a long time ago, somewhere in between leaving Brazil and being brought back to America by the US Government.

All that mattered now was survival; I no longer felt any guilt for the bodies that I left scattered in my wake. All I cared about was the next town, the next road I walked along, the one that would hopefully, eventually lead me back to Alex. Zombies were now just obstacles in my way; I no longer saw them as people, humans that had once lived and breathed, who had loved and been loved. It was fucked up, but this was a kill or be killed world that I was forced to live in, and I wasn't ready to give up just yet.

With a final glance towards the forest on the edge of the town, I started up the road that would lead me to Litchfield. It was early afternoon, and I was sure that I'd hit the prison just after nightfall, which would mean possible complications, but not so many as if I took the path through the forest. There were many dark places for the undead to hide beneath the shade of the trees, and one wrong move would lead them straight to me. It had been far too long since I'd last slept and longer still since I'd had a proper meal, and I was in no mood to be running for my life.

The walk to the prison was long and mind numbingly boring, not that I minded, since I really didn't fancy thinking much these days. Years ago, my mind would have been a whirl of thoughts as I walked along the edge of the broken and cracked road, but now I was too busy listening for any signs of life that stray thoughts barely ever entered my mind. My existence on this earth could hardly be called living, since I was nothing more than a sack of muscle and bone with the most basic survival instincts; and once upon a time this might have scared me. It might have worried me how close I was now to the things that I sometimes hunted, on particularly dark nights, how alike I was to the undead that did nothing but kill and eat.

But I felt as if I had lost my will to live when I was separated from Alex; as if I had lost a part of my heart and soul, and was left with nothing. Her absence was like a constant ache in my chest, a dark space where my heart had once resided, where there was now only a fleshy lump of muscle that felt nothing. I felt nothing.

My ears pricked when the sun began to set behind the trees and darkness finally coated the road like a thick fog. It seemed as if I heard noises coming from every direction, probably imagined, but I unsheathed the sharp dagger from my waist all the same. As I came closer to the prison, I slipped into the edge of the forest, darting in between the trees as the building loomed closer and closer. The sounds were not imagined now, and I could hear the echoes of hundreds of footsteps, along with muted growls and muffled snarls. I was almost there, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a thrill of excitement.

Pausing on the edge of the tree line, I crouched in the darkness and took in the view before me. It was not unlike when we had finally gotten to Florida, all those years ago, with the thousands of zombies milling outside the giant wall that closed off the cursed city. There were hundreds of the fuckers standing outside of the prison, crowding around the large gates with the moonlight reflecting off their pale eyes and skin. The undead were no longer stumbling and uncoordinated as they paced along the fence, as the one I had ended in the town only hours ago had been; they moved with quicksilver speed, with their bright, hungry eyes scanning their surroundings in the darkness. I cursed myself for the time I had wasted earlier, stitching up my wound, as I scanned the gates for a way in. My eyes paused briefly on the locked gates that I had run through so long ago, in my escape from this very place, before moving on.

_If only I could speak chicken, _I thought to myself as I looked for any openings in the fence. If I could speak to chickens, I would find the one that had escaped from my grasp so long ago, and ask it how the fuck it had managed to get through the fence without the ability to fly. Was there some secret tunnel, or a break in the thick wire fence? If there was, I had never heard about it, and I didn't have the time to search for a secret passageway, since my luck all depended on my stealth, and the wind that was blowing my scent away from the prison. All it would take was one large gust of wind and my journey would all be for nothing; I was exhausted and I knew that I didn't have the energy or strength to out run all these bastards.

Light from inside the building sparked my hope and my determination and I crawled along the tree line, away from the undead that stalked outside the large double gate. The amount of zombies grew smaller as I made my way around the prison, stopping where the line of trees ended, not far from the track that I used to frequent with Janae Watson.

There was only one choice really, which I had known from the beginning and that would be to climb over the high fence that surrounded the prison. I wasn't worried about the climb, but more so concerned about the noise it would make as I hauled my body up the fence and over to the other side. And I was really thrilled about the barb wire either, I thought as I spared a wry glance to my bandaged forearm.

I rocked back and forth on my heels, letting my eyes wander over the undead and up the tall fence, feeling edgy and more than a little scared. It wasn't that I was afraid of dying; a part of me almost welcomed the thought of leaving this fucked up world. It was the fear of dying when I was so close to finding what I had been searching for that truly terrified me. What a waste it would be, to fall to these zombies when I had faced far worse in my time, when there was a possibility that Alex was waiting for me just inside the prison. Saying that it would suck would be a massive understatement.

Just do it, I thought to myself as I stared hard at the light shining from inside the drab looking building. Rip it off like a band aid and get it over with.

Carefully placing the handle to my blade between my teeth, I eyed the few zombies that were milling around before launching myself out of my hiding spot. With fast, silent strides, I sprinted across the short space between the tree line and the fence, and was spotted before I could even wrap my fingers around the wire. My breathing was calm and even as I scrambled half way up the fence, before I felt cold fingers grasp my ankle and pull me down. The wire cut into my fingers and I growled at the pain as I kicked out wildly with my foot, stamping on the face of the zombie that held me tight. The grip loosened briefly, but it was enough for me to pull myself higher and out of reach.

Well, that was almost disappointing, I thought to myself as I reached the top of the fence.

I laughed breathlessly, in complete relief and disbelief as I spared a brief glance down to see the zombies that stood below me, their hands outstretched and their faces twisted into angry grimaces. I grinned devilishly, with the dagger stilled clenched in my teeth, as I pulled myself over the top of the fence and let myself drop to the ground. I was careful to pull my arms against my body this time, exhaling sharply as I hit the ground and my knees almost buckled beneath me. Hundreds of hands gripped the fence that separated me from the zombies, but I ignored their enraged growls as I turned and started making my way to the prison doors. The flood lights blurred my vision as I walked up the steps, and I squinted against the bright light as I reached out to grab the door handle. My heart was in my throat as my fingertips touched the cool metal, and I swallowed against the insistent lump as I moved to open the door.

Only to stumble backwards in alarm as the double doors were suddenly thrown open and the barrel of a shotgun was being directed straight at my face.

"Don't shoot!" I cried as I dropped to my knees, ducking my head just in case the gun holder decided to ignore my plea. After several moments of silence, I glanced up and felt immediate relief to see a very familiar and shocked face.

"_Blanca_?"

"Way to greet your guest, Mendoza."


	3. Chapter 3

**After Dark**

**Chapter Three**

"Jesus Christ and his fucking mother, you're alive! We thought you'd be dead for sure," Gloria laughed in disbelief as she reached down to grip my hand and pull me to my feet, her dark eyes wide with shock. "Though, you couldn't tell from the looks of you, Blondie."

My eyes closed in reaction as Gloria placed her hand on my jaw, tilting my face towards the light as she studied me. The human touch, which was surprisingly gentle, was heavenly after so long without any interaction with another human being. The older woman's hand was warm against my skin, and my heart was pounding in my chest as her fingers caressed my cheek tenderly, like a mother would her child. I felt tears well up behind my closed eyelids, but I forced them back with a rapid blink as Mendoza let me go with a small tsking noise.

"Man, you look almost as bad as those fuckers outside the gate," Gloria sighed, gently grasping my arm and pulling me into the prison. She placed her shotgun by the door, on a rack loaded with guns and weaponry before leading me down the hallway. "I'll have the girls warm you up something, yeah? I think we have some leftovers from dinner, and you look like you need 'em more than the dogs; you all skin and bones, chicka."

The building was as cold and gloomy as I remembered, with the flickering fluorescent lights and the drab stone walls, but it was comforting nonetheless. I let the familiarity seep into my skin, and it was akin to taking a warm shower as I felt my tense muscles relax and my shoulders sag gratefully. I ran my hand lightly along the wall as we walked in the direction of the kitchen, memories flashing through my mind of the very first time I walked down this hallway, led by Morello, and followed by a group of orange wearing newbies. It was as if nothing had changed, and yet, everything was different; I was different. The building was the same, but the woman who had walked this path more than two years ago no longer existed.

She had died on the other side of the prison, knee deep in snow, with her knuckles broken and bloody.

I miss her, sometimes.

There were so many thoughts whirling around my brain, but I had not forgotten my quest, and the question that had been stirring in my mind for months was scratching behind my closed lips, begging to be answered. I took a deep, calming breath, glancing at the woman walking beside me as I tried to speak as nonchalantly as possible.

"Has there... I mean, has anyone else shown up?" I cringed at the break in my voice, and felt my heartbeat double its pace at the thoughtful frown on Mendoza's face.

"We've had people drifting in, y'know, trying to get away from all the shit out there," the older woman shrugged her shoulders. "But no one you would know, I don't think. You girls are the only ones that got out; they put on us lockdown for the first six months, which was fucking Hell, let me tell you. Some crazy shit went down, but it didn't take long for all the cops to disappear, and everyone just hung around after that, 'cause, well, there was no point in leaving no more, y'know?"

I felt my heart plummet into my stomach, burning and writhing in the acid as I was flooded with irrational anger and disappointment. I had been so _sure _that Alex would come here to look for me; I had never truly let myself consider the option that she wouldn't be here. I had never let myself consider it because I knew that I would have given up long ago, had I thought there was no light at the end of my dark, dark tunnel.

And if Alex wasn't here, then where the fuck was she?

Was she even alive?

Fuck.

I pushed that thought away firmly, unwilling and unable to even consider the possibility of a world without Alex Vause, even as a world as fucked up as this one. It just wasn't possible, not Alex, of all people, who knew how to take care of herself better than anyone I knew. Alex was a fucking survivor, and even without me there to guard her back, the thought of her being dead before she was old and grey was just inconceivable.

And even though Alex _wasn't _here, my journey hadn't been for nothing. There were still people here that I knew, and it was relatively safe, at least safer than the world outside the gates.

And Alex would show up, eventually, I knew she would and I would wait. I would wait my whole fucking life if I had to.

We passed a few people in the hallways as Gloria led me to the cafeteria, but so far, there was no one that I recognized. Most of the people I knew, and actually liked, had left with us when we escaped, and even fewer of them had survived. The first person I recognized, and was actually happy to see, was none other than Susanne, who was mopping the floors just outside the REC room, bobbing her head to a silent beat.

"Hey, crazy, your girlfriend's back," Gloria chuckled as we came up beside the oblivious woman, whose head snapped up in surprise at her words. Her always moving eyes landed on me, widening comically at my sudden appearance back in the prison and I couldn't help but smile.

"Hey, Susanne," I murmured as we passed her, giving a small wave in greeting.

"Hey Dandelion," she scooted after us for a few steps, her hands still wrapped around her mop. "You got some dirt on your nose. You been playing outside? It's dangerous out there."

"Something like that," I chuckled as we continued on to the cafeteria, where several girls were wiping down tables.

"Hey!" Gloria called to the women in the kitchen, who all turned around to stare at me with wide, disbelieving eyes the moment we entered the crowded space. I stood off to the side, watching curiously as the older woman strode into the room, taking control immediately. "We got any leftovers from dinner? I found a stray scratching at the front door."

"Hey, Chapman," one of the younger girls that stood closest to me spoke up, the one that had entered Litchfield the same day as I had, all those years ago. "Glad you made it."

"You too, Daya," I replied with a small smile, taking the tray that was handed to me, before sitting on a stool by the kitchen bench. "So, what's been going on around here, since I left?"

I barely heard the young Spanish woman as she begun to speak, as I was so busy shoveling food down my throat to really care. It had been days since I'd had anything to eat, and I had been living off bottled water and wrinkled apples for the past three weeks. Something she said though caught my attention and my head snapped up in surprise. "Wait, what did you just say?"

Daya threw me a bemused look as she wiped down the tray she was holding, but repeated her words. "I said the first few weeks were the craziest, y'know, with the cops all around the place and the guards running for the hills. The only ones that stayed were Caputo, John, Officer Fisher and O'Neil, but he got eaten by the end of the second week. And then I said I had my baby-"

"You were pregnant?" I had heard the rumor about Daya and the guard, Bennett, but I hadn't known that she was pregnant.

"Yeah," Daya was beaming with happiness and pride. "I got a daughter, her name's Lisa; my mom is looking after her at the moment, in the REC room."

I shook my head in wonder at this information, wondering how a child could be brought up in this world, especially in a place like this. I spared a brief thought for my godson and his parents, Polly and Pete, who I hoped were still in Australia with Pete's family, safe and sound. It had been over a year and a half since I'd last spoken to my best friend, not long after our hurried escape from Brazil and fuck, I missed her.

"Anyways, after everything really went to shit on the outside, all the cops left and we were pretty much left here to fend for our own, I guess. They didn't really care about us, and it wasn't as if we could make any trouble, not with zombies outside. We made some trips into the bigger cities and got some guns and shit, and we make weakly trips in the van for supplies, but it's getting harder, 'cause we keep having to go further out each time." Daya scanned the room for people listening before leaning closer to whisper in my ear. "Gloria thinks we're all going to have to leave soon, 'cause there's no more food for miles. She wants to take us to Florida or something."

"Not Florida." I said immediately, my voice firm and final as I stared down at my tray, feeling my appetite suddenly vanish. Florida was a mixture of memories for me, mostly memories of relief, but also of horror and heartbreak.

God, it had been years since I thought of Larry.

"Well, there's other places, y'know," Daya shrugged, completely oblivious to the turmoil inside my mind as I was flooded with memories of my ex fiancé and best friend. "We could go to LA, or Mexico, I don't know, anywhere that isn't here would be fine with me."

I nodded my head, though I was no longer listening, my thoughts a thousand miles away. I passed my tray to Daya, who took it with a smile, though it was somewhat concerned at the almost full tray, before pushing away from the bench and standing up.

"Finished, Chapman?" Mendoza asked, glancing at my tray with a raised eyebrow. "Okay, well, how about I show you to a bed, huh? We ain't got much space, but I think there was a spare bed in the Ghetto. Otherwise, we can always kick one of the newbies out."

I nodded my head in silent agreement, following the older woman from the kitchen and back into the prison's winding hallways. The path she led me on was a familiar one, and within minutes, we were striding into the Ghetto, where I had once shared a bunk with Miss Claudette and then, Taystee. Weirdly enough, it was outside that very cube that Mendoza stopped, gesturing to the bed in which I had slept on for almost four months, before our escape from this place.

_You've got to be kidding me, _I thought to myself, though I said a quiet thank you as I stepped into the small cubicle, eyeing the bed warily.

"Get some rest, chicka," Mendoza watched me from the entrance, with her arms crossed over her chest and a soft look in her eyes. "You look like you've been to Hell and back."

"That's not far from the truth," I murmured, giving the woman one last grateful smile before she nodded and strode away. I sighed as I slowly lay back on the bed, feeling tears well in my eyes at the simple pleasure of having a mattress beneath me for the first time in months. It had been the cold, cold ground, littered with rocks and debris for me, for the last half a year, since I barely stayed in the cities for long enough to pick up supplies before moving on. The only thing that would have made this moment better would be if I couldn't feel at least fifty pairs of eyes on me, from the other women in the B Dorm.

And the one thing that could make this moment perfect, would be a certain, dark haired, bespectacled ex drug dealer, lying by my side.

_Where are you, Alex?_


	4. Chapter 4

**After Dark**

**Chapter Four**

"Florida is in complete ruins and overrun with zombies and the Government's home base is in New Mexico, so that's a no go," I explained as I looked down at the map spread across the table. "Los Angeles is a red zone, D.C was completely burnt to the ground when I went through there a few weeks ago and I wouldn't cross the border into Mexico if I was dumb, deaf and blind, it's just as bad as Florida and the few survivors they have there shoot first and ask questions later."

I looked up at the faces around me, taking in the disappointment and frustration that was on show and felt a stab of sympathy in response. In less than five minutes, I had just blown all their backup cities into the water and had put them right back to where they had started in their search for a new home, however temporary it may be.

"I understand your frustration," I tried to convey my sympathy into my words as I caught the eyes of each member in the small group. "This place doesn't exactly hold any good memories for any of us, but honestly, this prison is the safest and most stable thing I've found in the past half a year. It's a shit hole and I know that none of you want to stay here, but it's your best option right now."

It was the truth, I knew it and by the resigned expressions on the faces of the group, they knew it too. A prison, though not a desirable spot to live, was an ideal safe place, with its impenetrable gates and thick stone walls. I honestly hated the place, hated walking down the halls only to be bombarded with horrible memories of my time here, but I didn't want to be back on the road, especially when there was a chance that Alex might still show up.

"We're just going to have to go further for supplies," Caputo finally spoke up, sighing in exhaustion as he ran his fingers through the spindly hairs on his head. "We'll just have to send out bigger groups, two cars at a time, just in case."

"Yeah, except it ain't ever you out in the cars, is it?" Gloria sneered from where she sat on the other side of the table, next to Officer Fischer, who sat in awkward silence between the older man and resentful former inmate.

"I'll take out a group of volunteer's tomorrow," I offered quickly, shutting down the argument that was brewing before it could explode. "I went through a town on my way here, a couple of hours outside of New York and picked up some things in the local supermarket. It's still pretty well stocked and as long as we leave just after dawn, we should be perfectly fine."

"I'll come with you," Fischer offered instantly, to which I replied with a small, grateful smile, since I had always liked the female guard. I hadn't forgotten my last night here either, the kindness this woman had shown me when she found me knee deep in snow, leaning over Tiffany's lifeless body. I could still feel the cool metal of the screwdriver that she had pressed into my hands, a tool that had saved my life more than once after I escaped the prison with Alex and our rag tag group of women. This woman had unknowingly saved my life, saved Alex's life and I would be honoured to have her by my side on a run through a zombie infested town.

"I got a few girls in the kitchen that will go," Gloria nodded in agreement, chewing on her bottom lip in thought. "Flaca and Maritza, they can handle themselves. A couple of others will sign up too, as soon as we spread the word that we're having a run tomorrow."

"No more than six," I replied. "I want to pack the cars as full as we can, so we don't have to go back so soon."

"Feeding this fucking group, you'll be going out again this time next week, Chapman." Caputo sighed as he leant back in his chair, earning a hate filled glare from Mendoza. "These girls don't know the meaning of rations."

I said nothing and instead just rolled up the map that was spread across the table, signaling the end of our meeting. Caputo immediately stood from his seat and left the office, followed shortly by Fischer who gave me a small smile as she left. It left me alone with Mendoza, who was tapping her nails against the edge of the desk in agitation. "I'm gonna fuckin' kill that guy."

"He means well," I sighed as I tapped the rolled up map against the edge of the table. "He's just scared, like everybody else. I mean, how many people do we have here?"

"Including the newbies and the left over guards?" Mendoza raised an eyebrow in thought before shrugging her shoulders. "Almost two hundred."

"Fuck," I breathed out, dropping down heavily to sit on the edge of the table. Two hundred people was much more than I had expected and that many people couldn't live off canned food forever. I frowned in thought for a few minutes as Mendoza watched me curiously from her seat, before an idea struck me. "You know what? We need to start a garden or something."

"A garden?" Gloria scoffed in response, though there was a glimmer of interest in her eyes. "Didn't know you had a thing for flowers and shit, chicka."

"Not flowers, vegetables." I murmured in response, as my brow furrowed in thought. "We could see if we could pick up some seeds or something while we're out and then we can start growing our own vegetables. Isn't there a greenhouse down past the track?"

I turned my head to face Mendoza, whose face was scrunched in thought before she slowly nodded. I smiled slightly in response and slipped off the edge of the table, gesturing for the older woman to follow me. "Come on, let's go see about these volunteers, then we can take a walk around the grounds and see what we've got."

/

There was no sleep for me this night, after I spent hours wandering through the prison, reacquainting myself with my fellow ex-prisoners and the grounds. I was reunited with some old friends, such as Sister Ingalls and Sophia, whose wife and son, Michael, had joined her in the prison once the outside world went to shit, along with DeMarco and some of the golden girls, like Chang. I also spent some time being shown around the less frequented parts of the prison by Susanne, who seemed to be delighted by my return.

_"It got boring without you around here, Dandelion," _The woman had told me as she led me through the prison basement. _"Shit still kept on happening, but you took all the light with you when you left. It's been dark here for a long time."_

I had smiled at Susanne's words but I had felt a pang in my heart, since _my _light still hadn't returned to the prison and was still out there wandering around in this fucked up world without me. I had quickly pushed my thoughts of Alex away and had buried myself in work, going through the supplies in the kitchen, which honestly wasn't much, at least not enough to feed a prison filled to the brim with two hundred survivors. Gloria and I did manage to find the old green house on the grounds, unoccupied for years by the state of it, but with more than enough space to start a vegetable garden and I had left it in the hands of some of the golden girls to get ready for planting.

It was now almost 5:00am and I was waiting for my little group of volunteers to finish getting ready as I leant against the front doors of the prison. With Gloria's own shotgun strapped to my back and several sharp blades hidden on my body, within easy reach, I felt confident about the quick supply run that was about to take place. I had a small group of six women, including myself; with Fischer who would be driving one of the cars, the two girls from the kitchen and two women that I didn't know very well, named Ashleigh and Sarah.

"You all good?" Mendoza asked as she sidled up beside me, having gotten up early to see us out of the gates and to close them behind us.

"I'm fine." I replied easily, crossing my arms over my chest as I watched one of the Spanish girls loading a revolver. "Everything will be okay."

"It better be," the older woman said softly in response, her dark eyes fixed on the two young Spanish girls. "I don't want to be burning no more bodies of the people I love, you hear me?"

I tilted my head slightly in acknowledgement, feeling a weight settle on my shoulders as I watched Mendoza walk away, to stand beside Flaca and Maritza. I watched silently as she gave them each a hug in turn and took this as my cue to open the doors and begin the short trek to the cars that were waiting for us by the gates. Since the sun was only just beginning to rise, some of the undead still lingered by the gate, though their eyes were beginning to become unfocused and their movements were slower and uncoordinated. I smiled slightly at the sight of the two vehicles waiting for us, one of which was an old black pickup truck, to which I had the keys for, and the familiar van that used to be driven by Morello, what felt like a lifetime ago.

And just like that, I was overloaded with memories from the past, of the first time I sat in that van with Janae Watson sitting beside me. God, I fucking _missed her_, the younger woman who had become one of my constant companions in the years past, who had watched my back and saved my life more times than I could count. And then came the memories of Nicky and Morello and Red, and of course, Alex; from the first time I saw her in that bar, a life time ago, to the moment I was torn away from her on that godforsaken boat.

I felt as if my chest had tightened, crushing my heart beneath my ribcage and I gasped for air, because fuck, I missed her so much. I missed her hands and her lips, her strong arms that wrapped around me and most of all, just the comforting, warm presence of her at my side. _Where are you, Alex? I'm fucking waiting for you here, don't you know that? Can't you feel me?_

A hand dropping comfortingly on my shoulder snapped me from my morbid thoughts and I turned my surprised gaze to Fischer's big blue eyes, which were staring back at me in sympathy. "You okay, Chapman?"

"I'm fine," I grimaced at how croaky my voice sounded, as if I was on the verge of tears, which I was. "Let's get this show on the road, yeah?"

Fischer merely nodded in response, her eyes searching mine briefly before she pulled a key from her pocket and began walking to the van. I gestured for the two young Spanish girls to follow me as I unlocked the pickup truck and hopped into the driver's seat.

"You girls ever been out on a run before?" I asked as I put on my seat belt and stuck the key into the ignition, allowing the engine to rumble to life. I watched as Mendoza unlocked the prison gates and put the truck into gear before I pushed my foot down lightly on the accelerator.

"Nope." Both girls answered in unison as we slowly drove through the gates and past the zombies that were fading into the shadows. Fischer fell in behind us and I watched in the rearview mirror as Mendoza locked up the gates, her dark eyes fixed on our cars as we drove down the road away from Litchfield.

"Great," I murmured softly in response, slipping on a pair of sunglasses as the sun began to light up the road. "Just fucking great."


End file.
